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Excitement curled inside me. Was it possible that between the three of us, we could give my boyfriend the best present of all?
“Okay then, this is what we’ll do…”
ChapterTwenty-Six
Arlo
It was onlytwo days to Christmas, and the announcement that I was spending Christmas with the Byrne family and needed something Christmassy to wear was the excuse I needed to head home.
Not that I wanted to be at home, but because Jax was on edge, and hereallywanted me to wear that blue shirt his mama had bought me last Christmas. Well, what he really said was:“Arlo, I just need an hour or two. Get the blue shirt. I’m wrapping presents, okay? Go home, get your fancy clothes, and come back.”
I opened the case on the bed, stared at the empty interior, and realized this was the moment I was all-in. I didn’t have much left in my closet, most of my work things had already moved over to Jax’s place, and now, I was taking over the clothes I wore on special occasions—the pale blue shirt—plus some photos, and even the things I’d kept of Dad’s in a small wooden box we’d made together the summer I turned nine. We’d burned our names into it, myArlowas scrappy as I didn’t have complete control of the heat gun, but next to it was simply—Dad. He’d burned the date there as well, and inside were some cufflinks, a tie, and his and Mom’s obituary that the funeral home had arranged to have in the paper.
Panda had followed me in, and was sitting of my bed. “You know, I’m not sure people get their deaths written up in papers anymore.” He stared at me in that witchy cat way, then rolled on his back and asked for belly rubs with a soft chirrup. I rubbed him as instructed, removed my hand before he got fed up with me, and opened the box, the scent of cedar a sense memory that made me smile. I hadn’t been able to get the hinges right at first, but Dad had been so patient, and then, Mom had helped me line it with cherry red material.
I touched the cufflinks, read the obituary, and closed the lid, placing it in the suitcase.
“Meow,” Panda purred and curled against the pillows of the bed I hadn’t slept in for a few weeks now. “Meow!” Panda was insistent now, as if he was telling me something.
“Thank you for reminding me,” I said and crossed to the lowest drawer of the right bedside cabinet where I’d been hiding Jax’s present. I’d been working on it since September, way before my secret that I loved Jax was out, and I held the box up, seeing light filtering through the delicate filigree carving.
It was another box, this time red alder, made with over twenty years of experience in every tiny cut, with hidden hinges, and carved curls that reminded me of Jax’s red hair, and for a moment, I hugged the box to me. I’d imagined writing something and putting it inside, maybe even a suggestion that we date, but now, what I really wanted to put inside was a thirty-page essay about how happy I was.
Because it was too early for a ring.
Right?
Panda stretched, his furry butt in the air, then he sat and his ears twitched before he belted out of the room as if his tail was on fire.
So much for missing me.
Bang! Then, the doorbell, and I was so startled I nearly dropped the box, hurrying down the same way as Panda, who’d jumped out of the small window in the hall judging by the broken ornament on the floor. The doorbell rang again, but I couldn’t make out who was there from the shadows. Maybe carolers, maybe Jax?
I opened the door and blinked, my brain struggling to process the sight in front of me. Trace, grinning ear to ear with the familiar twinkle in his eye, clutching Panda, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Sutton, on the other hand, was almost obscured by a towering Christmas tree, its branches brushing the doorway and sprinkling the porch with needles.
“Surprise!” they chorused.
My heart lurched in my chest, a jumble of emotions swirling within me. Relief, joy, surprise, and a love so deep, it nearly brought tears to my eyes. “What the…” was all I managed to say, my voice shaky.
Trace stepped in first, releasing the purring Panda onto the living room rug, while Sutton, with a grunt, maneuvered the tree inside. “Jax said you’re mostly at his place.”
“I am.”
“But he said you’d be here.”
“He did? When?—"
“And we guessed you didn’t have a tree here, figured we'd bring some Christmas spirit,” Trace said.
I pulled both of them into a tight embrace, laughter bubbling up from deep within. “God, I’ve missed you both.”
Trace hugged me harder, babbling on about flights and delays and trees.
Sutton ruffled my hair with affection, since when had he grown taller than me? It had only been four months. “Missed you too, big bro. Now, let's get this place decorated, shall we?”
The next hour was a whirlwind of activity. We climbed up to the attic, sifting through boxes of old decorations, sharing stories. Every ornament held a memory, and with each one we hung, the room seemed to grow warmer, filled with the love and bond that is family. It would never be the same as the Christmases with our parents, but it was the Christmas we’d learned to love since they’d gone.
As we placed the star on top of the tree, Sutton reached into his bag, pulling out a container of cookies. “Special delivery from Jax's mama,” he announced with a smirk.
